Blue Jeans
by RissyWrites
Summary: She ran on narcotics, alcohol and him. A dark, Ezria one-shot. Based on Blue Jeans by Lana del Rey.


**This is the result of the Lana del Rey kick I've been on. I absolutely love her and I hope you love this one-shot...**

* * *

It was a risky game. She knew that.

She ran on narcotics, alcohol and him. She had tried to convince herself the only reason she stuck with him was because he was her supplier. What else did they have going for them? Sex, maybe.

They were stuck in the same dirty world, full of sleaze bags and cons. But he had potential. He had potential that only she recognized. It's hard not to fall in love with someone when they see the screwed up parts of your soul. When they understand the darkest and dustiest corners of your mind. She guessed that's what it came down to. They understood each other in a twisted way. We're all searching for someone whose demons play well with ours.

How she had become the Bonnie to his Clyde, she wasn't sure. One day she was a tired college student and the next she was hanging off the back of his motorcycle. She supposed she'd gotten involved with the wrong crowd, but she didn't regret it.

They'd had instant chemistry. The second she'd seen his blue, slightly bloodshot, eyes and scruffy chin she was attracted to him. She felt extremely cliche, being the good girl who fell for the bad boy.

He had never told her he loved her but she assumed he did. He wasn't the type to keep a girl with him for more than a week. But she'd been caught up in his mess for 3 years. To be fair, she had never told him that she loved him either. It was like an unspoken agreement between the two. As if they were afraid once the words were spoken it would all crumble out from beneath them. Their love buried in the rubble.

There was a quote she remembered, "Find what you love and let it kill you." It was Bukowski, she thought. She had done a Class A job of that. She was dying and so was he. They shortened their life expectancy with anything they could get their hands on.

She rolled over and stared at his weathered body. He was sleeping, he always looked the most at peace when he slept. They were in a dingy motel room that smelled like urine and ammonia. She didn't mind, really. She'd become used to these places. Skeevy motels where it was easy to make deals and stay under the radar.

It was 4 in the morning and it was raining. She loved rain.

Slowly she brushed the curls from his face, trying to avoid waking him. His eyes fluttered open slowly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered. Suddenly feeling self conscious she pulled the covers over her bare chest.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, "What time is it?"

"4-ish. I couldn't fall asleep," she yawned, curling into his side. He smelled like cigarettes and sweat. She'd grown fond of the smell in time.

"That makes one of us," he said with a small chuckle. She felt his chest vibrate under her ear and smiled at the sound of his heart beat. It was always a relief when they both woke up in the morning. They had a dangerous lifestyle. The kind that left you living from one day to the next.

"How long are we staying this time?" She asked quietly.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. He had been putting this off as long as he could, he definitely hadn't planned on having this conversation at 4 in the morning.

"There's actually be something I've been needing to talk to you about," he started hesitantly before climbing out of bed. He cracked his tired bones and pulled a beer out of a cooler. He offered her one but she shook her head as she waited for him to continue.

"I've gotta head to the west coast," he said after taking a swig of his beer, hoping that she'd get the idea.

"So, we head to the west coast," she started as she climbed behind where he sat on the bed. She draped her arms around his chest and whispered in his ear, "We could go to the beach, catch a few sunsets."

He shrugged her off and sat in the chair across from the bed. He tried to ignore her hurt look of rejection. He had to do this. It was best for her.

"Not _we_. _I_, Aria."

"What? What do you mean?" She asked, looking betrayed. He couldn't leave her. They'd been together way too long. He couldn't just leave her.

"You know what I mean. It's time we went separate ways, it'd be best for the both us," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His stare was on the ground, he couldn't handle looking at her. He wasn't heartless.

"You have got to be kidding me. We... Ezra, I thought that you... I thought that we actually had something?" She asked brokenly, regretting that she hadn't taken the beer he offered her. She needed something in her system before she had a complete mental breakdown.

"We've been tricking ourselves into thinking we could work. People like us, we don't do this. We don't have long-term relationships. You're lucky I've stuck around as long as I have," his words came out harsh, harsher than he intended. His heart broke when he heard her whimper.

"So, what? You were just going to fuck me and leave in the morning?" She screamed at him, hot and angry tears swelling down her face.

"Aria," he sighed and rubbed his eyes, daring himself to look up at her, "You'll get over me. You'll find some other guy to get you high, you don't need me."

She walked over to him, the bed sheet wrapped around her, and slapped him. Hard.

He rubbed his face and sighed, "I deserved that."

"Yes, you did. Don't you dare tell me that I don't need you. Of course I need you, Ezra. I love you. I said it, okay? I LOVE YOU!" She screamed, her breaths quick and deep.

"Stay or take me with you," she stated, her voice back to a whisper.

Ezra shook his head and chuckled, "I love you, too. God, Aria Montgomery. I can't get away from you. I'm bad for you, you know that?"

"We're bad for each other," she replied. He stood and put his hands on her waist, causing the sheet to drop and pool around their ankles.

"I wanted to fall off a bridge, not fall in love. But then I met somebody who made me forget the difference," he said quietly into her neck.

"Quoting poetry, now are we?" Aria sighed as he kissed down her neck.

They were bad for each other, but what was the point of being bad alone?

* * *

The next day Ezra was shot through the heart by a demanding drug lord. Aria's screams were heard through all of Pennsylvania and she took her own life only a few hours later. They weren't missed. They were just another story tacked onto a news bulletin. But they loved each other, that was a lot more than most people got.

* * *

_I know that love is mean and love hurts. But I still remember that day we met in December. Oh, baby._


End file.
